Diploma? It's Real
by detachablecape
Summary: "Harvey thought about that for a moment, then realized the inside of his head had just become a very sparkly place, and Harvey Specter didn't do sparkles. He did, however, do discipline – and he had come to a consensus. Harvey was going to have a little chat with Mike, and teach him a thing or two." Harvey is Mike's law teacher at Harvard. Bromance ensues. Full summary inside :)
1. Of Unicorns and Law Students

**Full Summary: Harvey Specter is a 34-year-old teacher of law at Harvard. Mike Ross is a delinquent fresh from graduating high school. (This fic is placed at the very beginning of things - ole Mikey is still using the green stuff and well, Specter lives to be victorious per usual. That never changes...) Shall feature many different types of Protector!Harvey and Awesome!Harvey, with generous amounts of bromance for all. No slash. (No romance of any kind, actually)**

**Hope you enjoy, virtual nutella will be doled out for reviewers! :)**

**Disclaimer: Yes, people, I own Suits! I know, it's shocking, yes, the pay is good...oh, no need to applaud *blush* (sarcasm, no suing please)**

The day shone bright and crisp into the large, clear windows of classroom 17A.

Harvey Specter sat at his desk, tapping away at his computer, each clicking key resonating throughout the empty room.

He enjoyed being early. It almost convinced him for a second that he was alone in the world. By choice.

And he loved that, having a choice to go at it alone – and choosing it.

Indeed, independence was a wonderful thing. And now here he was, moments away from trying to impress that message upon the hundreds of kids that flooded his room every day.

Why did he do it? Harvey physically shook his head at himself, his fingers stilling for a moment over the keys. A few years, he had been moments away from becoming a lawyer – literally. And now here he was, teaching it.

Maybe it was because he didn't like being a lawyer. But Harvey knew that wasn't true. He liked being a lawyer.

But he loved being a winner. And while wearing a suit and creaming people in court won battles, teaching other people the trade of how to do so triumphed the war. That was why Harvey did it.

Harvey resumed typing again, scrolling through his computer as he summarized each student's first semester progress.

Kyle Durant. Good student, bad kid. _Pretty common trait amongst kids these days, _Harvey mused, and then stopped himself as he realized how aged that sounded. He quickly typed up a few lines for Durant and then moved on. He had a schedule to maintain, after all.

Harold Jakowski. Bad student, good kid. Harvey jotted something down on his laptop and continued scrolling.

Jenny Griffith. _Sweet and smart, but nothing outstanding_, Harvey concluded, tempted to just write that down. Kids these days needed a firm, honest opinion to keep them going. God, he sounded like his father. Harvey wrinkled his nose.

Trevor Evans. Ah. Harvey typed a little bit more for this student. Evans was intelligent, that was for sure, but Harvey wasn't sure if he was right for the job. Evans seemed to want to pursue law, but not for the reasons Harvey had wanted it. The money and fame seemed to be Evans' primary motivation, and Harvey wasn't sure if that was enough to keep the kid going if he made it into the profession.

Rachel Zane. Brilliant, and she knew it, but when it really mattered, she forgot. Something along the lines of test taking anxiety, perhaps.

Harvey's fingers paused when he came to the last name on the list.

Michael Ross.

If Harvey was writing about the student who had the most potential, Mike Ross would be at the top of his list.

But Harvey was writing about his student's _efforts. _And here, Mike was sadly lacking. The "aspiring" undergraduate always turned up late for class, with some sort of halfhearted excuse, and Harvey was pretty sure Mike had never turned in a homework assignment in his life. How the kid had survived until now, Harvey didn't have a clue.

Which was saying something, because Harvey always had all the clues.

Frankly, Harvey didn't know _what _to put down for Mike's report. He wasn't about to lie when he taught a class that advocated justice, but how could Harvey describe the truth?

Mike Ross. _Lazy, cocky, young, frivolous, and more able than the principal? _

(Well, more able than the other law teacher, Mr. Litt, perhaps, because the principal, _Jessica, _was even more able than Harvey) Because Harvey had seen the work Mike wrote for some of his in-class assignments, and they were magical. In fact, if Harvey was the type of guy who made analogies to unicorns, Mike would definitely be a unicorn. A genius unicorn that pooped law. But one that couldn't fly, because it hadn't bothered to spread its wings.

Harvey thought about that for a moment, then realized the inside of his head had just become a very sparkly place, and Harvey Specter didn't do sparkles. He did, however, do discipline – and he had come to a consensus. Harvey was going to have a little chat with Mike, and teach him a thing or two.

As ridiculous as it was to admit it, Harvey was intrigued by the delinquent. The other students, they were punctual and hardworking, yes, but Mike – Mike was interesting. He was a genius that didn't care. Harvey remembered being like that. Hell, he had been _exactly _like that.

The bell signaling the beginning of class rang shrilly. Harvey placed Mike's summary on a separate spreadsheet and closed his laptop. He straightened his tie (just because he wasn't a lawyer didn't mean he couldn't dress like one) and buttoned the front of his suit.

Of course, Mike would come in a few minutes late, but Harvey was willing to wait. Because as soon as the kid stepped into Harvey's classroom, the two were going to start spending a lot of time together. Harvey taught in order to win through each and every one of his students, and _he_ _wasn't about to let Mike be an exception._

However, as the first line of students began to trickle in, a small thought crept into the young teacher's mind, saying softly that the kid_ already was. _


	2. Fifteen Minutes

**Thanks so much to those who reviewed/followed/favorited! **

***Virtual nutella* as promised :)**

**DeleaMarie - Loved your review! Here's some of that *virtual good old fashioned peanut butter!* **

**Sorry for the slow updates, finals week is killing me. Plus, the Suits Muse demands extra re-run hours devoted to the great show, since there aren't any new episodes until this summer! Gah.**

**Anyways, hope you like this chappie. Once again, I do not own Suits (there would never be any hiatuses, just hours and hours of law-filled goodness), and as I am still searching for a beta, grammar mistakes are a great possibility. **

Mike wheeled his bike over to the marble entrance that led to the Harvard classrooms and cursed as he padlocked it to one of the many bike racks outside.

He was late.

Normally, this wouldn't bother him, but Mike needed his student loans to help pay for his grandmother's hospital bills, and the department head, Jessica Pearson, had warned him.

One more act of misbehavior and his student loan was getting cut.

Mike gritted his teeth in frustration as he tugged the hood of his sweater off and entered the chilly interior of the building.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

A crisp, clear and at the moment supremely pissed voice called out to him and Mike turned, sneakers squeaking on the smooth marble tiles.

A tall, slim redhead was sitting nonchalantly on her swivel chair, behind a large, mahogany desk. One slender, red eyebrow was raised skeptically as the secretary took in Mike's disheveled appearance.

"Uh – class - "

"Nope!" The woman negated breezily, flapping a blue slip of paper in Mike's direction.

Mike made no attempt to receive it. He knew what it was, he had gotten them many countless times before.

"C'mon, Donna, please - "

"You know the rules, Mike, all tardy students have to get a pass and file their names down," Donna sniffed in her "authoritative voice", before slapping the paper down on the edge of her desk and turning back to her computer.

Mike sighed, and shuffled over to Donna's desk. He took his time rifling through his backpack, making a show of looking for his pen. If he was going to be late either way, might as well have some fun with it.

Donna watched Mike curiously, as one might do to a puppy that had misplaced his bone.

Finally, a good five minutes later, Mike had signed the slip and was on his way, meandering down the Harvard halls in search of 17A.

When he found the correct door, Mike sighed. Professor Spector's voice resonated through the door's panels and Mike recognized the frustration in his teacher's tones.

_He's probably questioning Harold, _Mike thought to himself. He still wasn't sure why his peer had decided to take up law. The kid couldn't hold up an argument to save himself. Mike grasped the doorknob, resigned to a morning full of pissed off teachers and inept classmates, and opened the door.

"Did you people even do the reading from last night?" Professor Spector was waving a BarBri Handbook around his head and fuming. He stopped his rant when he noticed Mike trying to sneak casually into the back row.

"Ross!"

Mike froze.

"Tell me you have a good explanation for why you're fifteen minutes late."

Mike turned to face his teacher, mustering up something witty from the crevices of his mind and coming up blank.

"Thought so," Harvey says in response to the silence, disapproval etched across his tanned face. "Now tell me why I shouldn't just send you out the door right now, for good."

The blood in Mike's veins freezes to something terrible. He didn't know what he wanted to do, nor who he wanted to be when he came to Harvard – all Mike knew was that the name _Harvard _was synonymous for _opportunity, _something Mike sought out more frantically than a hungry mouse looking for cheese.

And he didn't know that he wanted to pursue law, only that it was something he began to love dearly, and hell if he was going to let _fifteen minutes _take that away from him.

And so Mike did the only thing he could think of at the moment. Use his memory and hope to the high heavens that it got him out of this.

"Because I did the reading, and understood it better than anyone else here. That's a BarBri Legal Handbook right there, right? Open it up. Read me something. Anything."

Harvey stared at him, skeptical, but then flipped the book to a random page.

"Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors, including - "

"Including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable inference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff, and the nature of the damages themselves," Mike rattled off, barely skimming the underside of the things he had learned from the book.

Harvey stared at him again, but this time it was shock in his eyes.

"You couldn't have known that," he said, slightly accusatory, mostly in disbelief.

Kyle was giving Mike a death glare, but Trevor turned around in his seat and gave him a thumbs up, grinning wildly.

_Of course, _Mike thought, feeling almost bitter. _This would all be a game to Trevor, wouldn't it. _He wanted to shake his head to his ridiculous best friend, but felt Harvey's eyes still weighing his every action.

Harold, who was still standing in the ramrod position he had taken under Harvey's lecture, just looked numb, and when Mike caught his eye the boy mouthed a small, "thank you."

Mike looked at Harvey again, trying to dim the defiance in his expression because that wouldn't help his case…but Harvey couldn't kick him out now, not after Mike proved his capability…could he?

Harvey looked like he wanted to press the matter further, but then set the handbook down and crossed his arms over his well-pressed suit.

"Alright, Ross, take a seat…"

Relief flooded through Mike and he sat down, pulling his messenger bag from over his shoulder and onto his desk.

"…but see me after class."

Damn.

**Author's Note:  
The underlined portions are dialogue taken from the first episode of Suits (Pilot Episode). I couldn't think of anything that would capture Mike's inner genius better than what the show had given, so I had to borrow some. So, all credits go to the show for those portions! **

**In addition, I am not a Harvard student and thus have no first hand experience of the university's inner quirks. Most likely there are no secretaries demanding people to fill out slips for being late, and the professors probably don't give a crap about it either, but for the sake of AU fics I had to tweak around a bit and use generous amounts of imagination. I hope the inaccuracies are not bothersome - if there are any details you would like me to fix, please let me know!**

**Alright, long AN is long. Reviews are love! :)**


	3. Of Professors and Playboy Magazines

**Sorry for the delay! That dang meddler, real life, got in the way. **

**CazB - no peanutbutter or nutella? How about - strawberry jam? x)**

******Note: I really, really, really wish it were not so, but sadly I do not own Suits. Also, the underlined portions are dialogue taken from the first episode of Suits (Pilot Episode). I couldn't think of anything that would capture the character's inner genius better than what the show had given, so I had to borrow some. So, all credits go to the show for those portions!**

Class dragged on in a dreadfully sluggish fashion. Seconds crawled and Mike swore he heard the clock chuckle horribly when it pulled the minute hand slowly around its face.

It wasn't that Mike had anything against the class itself, or the essence of law, for that matter. In fact, Mike realized now after the scare with Harvey, that he was quite partial to this class, and everything he learned in it.

And no, it wasn't that Mike had anything against Harvey either, per se. He was just nervous about what would await him after class, and this wait was killing him.

Well, okay, he might have something against Harvey.

_That guy has had it out for me since day one, _Mike thought resentfully as he doodled absentmindedly on the fringe of his notebook.

A sharp, brown-eyed glance was sent his way and Mike's hand quickly stilled. He resisted the urge to waggle his fingers in Harvey's direction. But he didn't need to delve himself deeper into trouble.

Mike slouched in his seat, only to rapidly straighten his back when he was gifted with yet another of Harvey's finest eye-daggers.

It seemed that the punishment had already started.

* * *

When the bell finally rang, Mike realized how incredibly stupid it was to wish for time to pass so quickly.

Sudden nervousness pulsed through him. What if Harvey yelled at him? Actually, he could take that. What would be worse was if Harvey expelled Mike from his class after all, in some sort of delayed response to Mike's tardiness. Or – or – could there be something worse than that?

Kyle passed by Mike's seat, mouthing, _sucker. _

There probably was something worse. This was Harvey, after all.

Something nudged against Mike's leg and he jumped.

"Relax, Mike, it's just me," someone chuckled, and Mike looked up in time to see his best friend's amused face peering down at him.

"I'm not in the mood, Trevor," Mike muttered, rising from his seat and brushing past the tall teen.

"It's okay, it's just one proff," Trevor replied quickly. "What's the worst he can do, lower your grade or something?"

Mike didn't look at him, fiddling with the straps on his messenger bag.

"…Seriously, dude? That worries you? What is the "department head" gonna do?" Trevor asked rhetorically, curling his fingers in tandem to 'department head'. Being Mike's best friend (although that fact was questionable at the moment), Trevor knew all about Mike's predicament with Jessica and her evaluation of his behavior influencing the outcome of his student loans.

"You need to chillax, Mike. Meet me in the hallway when you're done, I've got something for you."

Trevor's voice lowered a bit at the end of the sentence, and they both scanned the rapidly emptying classroom reflexively, knowing very well themselves what that "something" was.

Mike's eyes landed upon Harvey's (this was the third glare of the day, for Pete's sake), and he quickly looked away, feeling guilty and not knowing why.

"Yeah, Trev, I should probably be going - "

"Yeah, okay, just hurry up, 'kay?" Trevor pivoted swiftly on one foot, hauling his large backpack behind him easily and disappearing through the dark, wooden classroom doors.

For some reason, their rather shady conversation made Mike feel even more nervous than before.

_Typical Trevor, _Mike cursed his best friend silently as he made his way across the classroom and to the front of Professor Spector's desk.

Harvey was now looking down at some papers, as if in deep thought, and the conversation he had seen go down between Mike and Trevor was merely that, a simple conversation.

Mike watched Harvey's eyes stare at the paper, but remain stationary.

_He's not really reading – trying to make me more nervous, then, eh? Well, it's working, _Mike thought, trying to surreptitiously straighten the collar of his shirt without giving any of his inner turmoil away.

_Two can play at this game, _Mike thought, hastily settling himself down on one of the chairs in front of the professor's desk, and pulling out a random book from his bag.

Without looking at it, Mike flipped the book open and pretended to be mesmerized by its contents while sneaking covert glances at Harvey, who remained immobile throughout the entire process.

Finally, Harvey glanced up, as if only just now remembering there was someone he had to attend to.

Mike quickly buried his nose in the book.

Then his eyes focused, _really_ focused this time, on what he was reading, and Mike wanted to kill someone.

Preferably Trevor.

"Playboy magazine?" A skeptical voice asked, and Mike tore his eyes from the scantily-clad women on the page and at Harvey's face.

"Um…uh…no! It's not!"

"So you're telling me that _isn't _a Playboy magazine you've been avidly reading for the past five minutes," Harvey stated casually. "Ross, in order to pass my class you may want to work on substantiating your claims."

Mike felt his face heat up horribly.

"No, I mean…this isn't…mine. It's Trevor's. He's my best friend so sometimes he hangs out overnight at my dorm...and leaves his stuff mixed with my stuff…" Mike trailed off lamely.

"That doesn't explain why you've been staring at that page," Harvey waved over at the exposed magazine page Mike was holding, of what seemed to be a very seductive woman, "for quite a long, voluntary while."

"I was actually watching you watch your paper while pretending not to watch me," Mike attempted feebly.

Oh God.

He was screwed.

To his surprise, Harvey nodded slowly, as if he could tell Mike was telling the truth. Harvey then motioned for Mike to put the magazine away, which the latter did with great enthusiasm.

"Alright, then watch me tell you what's about to happen."

_Here goes, _Mike braced himself internally.

"Give me a reason."

_…What?_

"It's come to my attention, very glaringly so, that you hold one of the most unmotivated attitudes in this entire classroom."

That sounded a bit more like what Mike had been expecting to hear…

"…However, you still hold a ranking in roughly the middle of your peers."

"I did a little digging, a hint of research here, a pinch of stalking there," Harvey continued calmly, "and extrapolated that your "tests" category is extremely high, whilst your "assignments and projects" category is dismally abysmal. This accounts for the rather average ranking."

"And so, it remains to be concluded that you are simply not trying. What motivates you, Michael?"

The abrupt question followed by his first full name caused Mike to start slightly.

_My grandmother, _but Mike wasn't about to tell a random teacher that, albeit how adept said teacher's glares were.

"Um…I like reading," Mike blathered on generically.

Harvey's eyebrows raised. _"Reading Playboy magazines?" _they asked bushily.

"Reading about law," Mike answered the silent question. "It's sort of my dream to be a lawyer."

"Let me tell you something. This isn't elementary school, this is hard work. Long hours. High pressure. I need a grown God damn man. So give me a reason why I shouldn't send you out here, for good."

"You give me this and I will work as hard as it takes to school these Harvard douches and become the best lawyer you have ever seen."

Harvey grinned internally. He had to hand it to him, the kid had spunk.

"I'm inclined to give you a shot but what if I decide to go another way?"

"I'd say that's fair. Sometimes I like to hang out with people who aren't that bright. You know, just to see how the other half lives."

They both stood facing each other, unaware that they had left their seats.

Harvey sat back down first, casually smoothing his tie and opening up his laptop.

"Alright, you can go. But if you want to come back, you're going to have to make some changes."

Mike laughed shakily, also sitting back down. "Such as?"

"Such as putting in the effort. Show me you want this – remotivate yourself. Whatever got you along this far let you into a great university. If it's reading, hell, then read the entire library. Get whatever it was back."

Mike nodded, Harvey's words rolling around in his head. Remotivate himself…

He pulled the contents of his messenger bag back inside, making sure to stuff the telltale magazine into some deep crevice where it would never have the opportunity to surface again.

Just as Mike was about to turn the knob and open the door, Harvey's voice called out to him.

"Oh, and Mike?"

Mike turned around.

"About Trevor. What's so important that he has to wait for you?"

Mike feigned a casual shrug. "Who knows? Maybe a surprise."

As the door shut behind the lanky student, Harvey nodded slowly.

"Maybe."

**Whoa, that ending kind of made it sound like Harvey was a brooding evil character. I can almost imagine him stroking his nonexistent beard pensively. x)**

**By the way, I realized that before I said Jessica was the "principal," and now she's the "department head." Well, I figure she can be both since Mike's going to Harvard and Harvey is a teacher. Lol. **

**Anyways, thoughts? Why not leave 'em in a review? XD**


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